Christmas at the Inn
by Circe-Asteria
Summary: Christmas is the time of miracles, lovers and happy endings. Perhaps a certain blonde bit of Sunshine can bring some happiness and a happy ending to Brian's life.


A/N - And this is how I decide to return to fanfiction. It has been years since I've written any fanfiction but once I ran across Queer as Folk on Netflix, I couldn't stop myself. And I have to see how this is received. No profit is being made on this.

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><p>Fucking carols. Fucking lights. Fucking reindeer. Fucking Christmas!<p>

Brian Kinney flipped a passing minivan - complete with wreath and fake antlers - the bird and slouched down in the passenger seat of Cynthia's Jeep. This was not how he envisioned spending Christmas of 06. He was supposed to be with Justin in Vail, not driving down the highway to fucking Vermont with Ted, Blake, and Cynthia's off key renditions of Jingle Bells for company.

There was nothing he wanted more then to be snugged up in a snowed in chalet and wrapped around Justin for a week of uninterrupted bliss. Like Christmas of last year when they'd locked themselves into the loft and disconnected the phone, only venturing out for a few hours on Christmas Day. But no, Jen had to decide that Justin needed to be at some sort of family reunion deal instead of Vail.

Apparently Granny Smith, Jen's mother, was doing poorly and this might be her last Christmas. The family wanted to have one big get together; just in case the worst happened. The only problem was that the family still didn't know that darling Justin liked cock instead of pussy.

How Jen had kept that one quiet from the folks, Brian didn't know but he could understand why Jen had politely encouraged Brian to not attend the gathering. If Granny was doing as poorly as rumored, then seeing her oldest grandson sucking face with another man, as Brian had a newly developed holiday habit of hauling Justin beneath every sprig of mistletoe he saw, might just send her over the edge. Especially since she was still convinced that Justin was going to give her pretty great grand-babies.

It would be hard enough explaining Tucker, Jen had said, and that by throwing in the fact that Justin, the family wunderkind, was in a homosexual relationship with a man the same age as her lover that the entire family could stroke out. There was something screwy with this branch of the Smith family, Brian thought as he craned his neck to watch a passing sports car, since two out three of them were involved in May-December relationships. Three out of four, if one still considered Craig Taylor to be a limb on this particular branch of the Smith Family Tree. Brian was curious to see what Molly would do when her turn came around.

He could see her point but that didn't mean he was happy about it. He'd only recently embraced romance and intimacy and he wanted to experience it as much as possible. It was already hard enough with Justin in New York to manage this. He'd been looking forward to the cabin in Vail and now all he got was a Christmas meeting with a prospective client in fucking Vermont.

And now Ted had started in with his rendition of Silent Night while schmoopy Blake stared up at him. Why the fuck was Ted bringing Blake to a business meeting anyway? If the schmoop from the backseat got any worse, he was either going to vomit or kick the lovebirds out.

No, this was not how he'd pictured Christmas at all. Christmas involved Justin, a new bottle of lube and lots of nakedness. He'd also planned on candlelit meals for two, cuddling in front of the fire and whispered sweet nothings. No doubt, Justin would get wigged out after a while and demand to be fucked on or against every surface of that cabin. He'd be happy to comply with that order, as Justin was a world class fuck, but he actually wanted to romance the man. In fact, he craved it now that he'd freely admitted his affections. All of the bottled up emotions of their first five years were flowing freely now and he needed to make up for all of the times he'd treated Justin like shit.

It actually scared him, this need to romance Justin. He needed to know that his blond lover knew just how much Brian cared.

Admittedly, his grasp on the language of romance was still weak but he was learning. He just couldn't continue his education because Granny Smith was frail and some prick of a client wanted to meet in an inn in the ass end of Vermont. And, dear God, if there was one more gag worthy declaration of nose-rubbing "I love you's" from the backseat, he was going to tie Ted and Blake to the roof.

Brian sunk even lower in the seat and flipped off another minivan.

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><p>Nervous did not even begin to describe how Justin felt about what he was about to do. Everything up to this point had been planning but now that he was about to do it, he was as nervous as he'd been the first time he'd gone to the loft. Justin sighed as he thought of Brian. His nervous thoughts settled because he knew that this was the right time. This time, they were ready.<p>

Cynthia's last message indicated that they were about an hour away from the Inn and that Brian was ready to strangle Ted and Blake. He owed those two a very big thank you for agreeing to keep Brian distracted. A very big, very special present was needed if Brian was threatening bodily harm. He'd have to think on it.

"Well, when is this man getting here? I have to check him out, see if he's good enough for my grandson before I just hand you over. It's not just about good sex, you know."

"Gran..." Justin groaned out the title, his face flushing. His Grandmother had taken the news fairly well, declaring that she's known he'd end up a homosexual since he was six years old and insisted on chasing the neighbor boys instead of their sisters. In fact, she'd taken the news about Brian a whole heck of a lot easier than the fact that Tucker was a lot younger than her daughter.

Once a mom, always a mom, Justin thought as he raked a hand through his hair. "They'll be here in about an hour if the weather holds up, Gran."

Granny Smith nodded and toddled her way back to the lobby fireplace and the coffee laced Irish whiskey she had over there. If her Grandson thought he could just up and be with anyone without her approval, he had another thing coming. Jen had told her a thing or two about this Brian Kinney and she wasn't all too convinced that he was the right man for her Justin. Then again, was anyone good enough for her talented, strong willed grandson?

And what about this Tucker? She shot a glance at her daughter and the young man she'd brought along. He was too young for her, even if he lifted the dark cloud that had been over her head since the divorce. Oh, don't get her wrong, she was glad that Craig Taylor was out of the picture. That fuckwit had never been good for Jen but she'd been young and convinced that it was love.

By all accounts, this Brian Kinney had something to do with the divorce. Maybe it was just that his relationship with Justin had been the catalyst that finally cracked the weak marriage of her daughter. Granny glanced at the clock; fifty minutes till this Brian Kinney sauntered through the door.

Forty-five minutes until show time. Justin signaled Emmett to start ushering everyone away from the public areas of the Inn. Brian was supposed to be coming to the Inn to meet a client. If he saw friends and family hanging around, he'd know that something was going on. He watched, smiling, as Melanie corralled JR while Lindsey pulled Gus away from the stacks of shiny presents.

It was Christmas Day and the little boy wasn't quite sure why they hadn't opened presents yet. Momma said that they had to wait for the guest of honor to show up before they could open presents. Gus was quite sure that Momma didn't know what she was talking about. The guest of honor had clearly already been here because there were tons more boxes and bags then the night before. Santa had come already so why couldn't he open his presents?

This had resulted in a spectacular meltdown that could only be delivered by a cranky child in an embarrassingly public place. It wasn't until Justin had picked up the sniffling, red faced, and thoroughly miserable little boy and explained that the guest of honor was Gus' daddy that the boy settled down. Justin had a very special present to give to Daddy and that couldn't happen until he got here. Once he got here and once Justin gave the present to Daddy, Christmas could begin. That had satisfied the boy but they still had to wait forever and ever for Daddy to get here. Gus was pretty sure that Christmas was going to be over before Daddy showed up.

Once the sitting room had been cleared out, Justin jogged up the stairs to the suite that had been reserved for him. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't set a scene. Brian thought he was coming to Vermont to meet a possible client for Kennetik, not an encounter with his partner. He snickered; if Brian knew Justin was here, he'd have broken the sound barrier to get here. As it was, according to Cynthia when she'd first checked in a few hours ago, Brian was doing a remarkable job impersonating both The Grinch and an invertebrate creature at the same time. Apparently Brian's Christmas plan had not included being pulled from his Sunshine-less loft and hauled to Vermont while being forced to endure the schmoop of Ted and Blake and he was letting everyone know that he was not amused.

Justin paced the darkened sitting room of his suite; the nerves were back and making his stomach jump and twist as he ran through what he planned to say. This was perhaps the most important speech he'd ever make. Everything had to go just right and even if everything was perfect, it could still go all wrong.

With twenty minutes till Brian would even be arriving, Justin checked his appearance and fluffed his hair. God, how he missed being with Brian. Missed waking up with him. Missed arguing over Thai or Chinese takeover. Missed lazy, rainy Sundays at the loft. He missed Brian's charm, his snark and his well hidden caring side.

And, if he was going to be honest with himself, he missed the 24/7 access to the best sex he'd ever had. Even at its worst, sex with Brian was better than the best tricks. With any given trick, the process was mechanical and the release was just to scratch the itch - which inevitably came back because the tricks were mediocre. With Brian, he went longer and came harder. Over the years, they'd learned the spots that drove each other wild and the techniques to reduce the other to begging. For example, not a single trick knew that a little teeth-and-tongue action to his earlobes could drive Brian wild, more so then the hottest blow job or tightest ass. Justin had used that information to distract his lover once or twice. And no one knew that if his neck was bitten at just the right spot, Justin could come on the spot - Brian was sole proprietor of that tidbit. The bastard has done it to him out on the floor of Babylon more than once.

Justin knew what Brian's arguments would be. He needed to be in New York for his art. Well, fuck New York and fuck his art. Both were dull and done in monochrome colors without Brian there. Justin knew what New York could do for him and his art now but he didn't want that as bad as he wanted to be at home with Brian.

When he heard the sound of a car crunching over the snow, Justin peered out the window. There was Cynthia's Jeep pulling to a stop at the Inn. He watched as first Cynthia popped out of the driver's side of the SUV. Justin chuckled as he watched as Brian practically oozed out of the passenger side. He did not look happy, at all.

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><p>Brian peered up at the front of the Inn. He raised a single eyebrow as he took in the Christmas decoration bedecked converted house. How quaint, he thought as he followed Cynthia into the lobby. While Cynthia handled the details, Brian turned in a circle to take in the way the lobby was decorated. Comfortably shabby furniture was clustered around the fireplace while a large Christmas tree was prominently displayed in front of the main windows. It sparkled with old ornaments and lights. Defiantly not like any Kinney family Christmas but it reminded him of the way the Novotny's celebrated. His mood lightened a little.<p>

"Mr. Kinney? I've put you up in our best suite. Mr. Walsh called a little while ago; he's running late. The snow, you understand. If you want, you can go up and rest. I'll be sure to call up when he arrives," the young woman behind the reservation counter said, "The room is on the third floor. 302 is on the left.

Brian nodded and took the key the woman handed over. "That would be fine. Can I get a bottle of Jim Beam sent up, by any chance?"

"Of course, Sir. I'll have one of the boys from the bar up with a bottle shortly."

Brian smiled at the girl and turned for the stairs. There was no need to be rude to the girl as she wasn't the reason he was here. That reason, one Mr. Walsh, was the reason and he couldn't even be bothered to show up on time. Brian took the stairs, every second that Walsh was late counted against Brian taking him on as a client. He easily found his room and unlocked the door. He pushed the door open and just stopped.

Suddenly all thoughts of Mr. Walsh, advertising, and Ted's soon-to-be death vanished. Justin was across the room, standing in front of the windows and smiling at him. Brian had enough mental power to kick the door closed before rushing across the room and engulfing Justin in a tight embrace. He didn't say a thing; he just held Justin tight, hands fisting in the fabric of the younger man's shirt. After a moment, Brian pulled back and framed Justin's face with his hands. "What the fuck are you doing here? No, wait, I don't care what brought you here. You're here," he said before kissing his lover, hard.

Justin managed one quick smile before returning the kiss. He hadn't seen Brian since Thanksgiving the previous month. They'd spent most of their time together in Justin's apartment, only going out to eat Thanksgiving dinner at The Breslin. Their time together over the holiday had been short lived; Brian had to return to Pittsburgh to oversee the release of the slew of holiday ads done for his clients. For Justin, the days following Brian's departure had been miserable. It had been near impossible to say good bye this time and he'd moped around the apartment for days. He had decided that he could no longer remain in New York and had started planning how to fix things.

The two men clung to each other, kissing with a frantic need to be one person. Only a knock at the door stopped Brian from walking Justin back to the nearest solid surface. He broke away, cursing. "Fuck, the Beam," he said, "don't go away, Sunshine. I'll take care of this real quick and then I'll come unwrap you."

Justin rolled his eyes at Brian's back. While Brian was involved in trying to hurry the waiter along, Justin hurried to set the rest of his plans into action. After shutting the door, Brian turned around, the bottle of bourbon clutched in his hand. He stumbled a bit as he watched Justin hitched his jeans up before lowering himself down to one knee. "Justin, what the fuck are you doing?"

Justin grinned as he cracked open the polished wooden box. Inside, the rings from the previous attempt at this were nestled in velvet. "I still can't believe that you have never thought to return these. Emmett declared that he was risking his life in smuggling them out of the loft for me. Nearly two years ago, you asked me a very important question and I said yes but we weren't ready for marriage then. You were affected by the dreaded Stepford-fag syndrome, trying to be who you thought I wanted you to be. And I needed to go to New York to see where my art could take me. In the time since, there's been no reoccurrence of the dreaded syndrome. And I've seen what New York could do for me but I cannot go on in New York. I can't keep going without you. Brian, you said that New York would make me a big, fat fucking success. Maybe it can but without you, whatever I paint is no better than a kid's scribbles. It's just paint splashed on a canvas. There's no emotion. So, this time, I'm asking you. Brian Kinney, will you marry me?"

Brian stared down at Justin. For a moment, his mouth just moved with no sound coming out. He coughed, clearing his throat before setting down the bottle of bourbon. His heart was thumping, his mouth was dry and he almost felt as if he couldn't breathe. "Justin…"

"Brian."

"We once said that our separation was just time. You said that we didn't need rings or vows to express how we felt about each other. What changed your mind?"

"Time changed my mind. Vows can be broken and rings can tarnish. My mind hasn't changed; I still think that rings and vows aren't needed between us. We've never had a standard relationship by the standard norms of society, even in the gay community. I'm not saying that we should marry because that's what everyone says we need to do after between together for seven years, more or less. I can't do it anymore, Brian, I can't keep saying good bye to you. I want to come home to where my family and friends are. I want to say good bye in the mornings and welcome home in the evenings. I want to be able to declare my love for you without people giving me that look that says "You've been together for seven years but have no sort of commitment and you actually moved away?" If wearing rings and exchanging vows are the way to do that, I want it. I don't expect monogamy but I just want people to know that we hold each other's hearts."

Brian swallowed and moved to kneel on the floor in front of Justin. "Well, then," he said while reaching out to stroke his fingers down the curve of Justin's cheek. "I suppose my answer would have to be yes. Yes. I will marry you."

Justin smiled that sunshine smile of his and leapt at Brian, hugging and kissing him. "Now, second question," he said between kisses.

Brian groaned. "There's more?"

Justin laughed. "Yes, there's more. How do you feel about marrying me, right here and right now?"

Brian blinked and then he tipped his head back and laughed. "There is no Mr. Walsh, is there? You little shit, you arranged this, didn't you? Is Granny Smith really doing all that poorly?"

Justin shook his head. "Yes, yes and no. So, can we have a wedding today?"

Brian, smiling so hard that it hurt, nodded his head and pulled his Sunshine in close. "Yes, Brat. We can marry today. Right here and right now."

Both men groaned when Debbie's voice could be heard from outside the room. "It's about fucking time you made an honest man out of Sunshine, Asshole!"


End file.
